MY DEAR FRIEND: I apply to you now, as to the greatest virtuoso of this,
or perhaps any other age; one whose superior judgment and distinguishing
eye hindered the King of Poland from buying a bad picture at Venice, and
whose decisions in the realms of ‘virtu’ are final, and without appeal.
Now to the point. I have had a catalogue sent me, ‘d’une Trente a
l’aimable de Tableaux des plus Grands Maitres, appartenans au Sieur
Araignon Aperen, valet de chambre de la Reine, sur le quai de la
Megisserie, au coin de Arche Marion’. There I observe two large pictures
of Titian, as described in the inclosed page of the catalogue, No. 18,
which I should be glad to purchase upon two conditions: the first is,
that they be undoubted originals of Titian, in good preservation; and the
other that they come cheap. To ascertain the first (but without
disparaging your skill), I wish you would get some undoubted connoisseurs
to examine them carefully: and if, upon such critical examination, they
should be unanimously allowed to be undisputed originals of Titian, and
well preserved, then comes the second point, the price: I will not go
above two hundred pounds sterling for the two together; but as much less
as you can get them for. I acknowledge that two hundred pounds seems to
be a very small sum for two undoubted Titians of that size; but, on the
other hand, as large Italian pictures are now out of fashion at Paris,
where fashion decides of everything, and as these pictures are too large
for common rooms, they may possibly come within the price above limited.
I leave the whole of this transaction (the price excepted, which I will
not exceed) to your consummate skill and prudence, with proper advice
joined to them. Should you happen to buy them for that price, carry them
to your own lodgings, and get a frame made to the second, which I observe
has none, exactly the same with the other frame, and have the old one new
gilt; and then get them carefully packed up, and sent me by Rouen.
I hear much of your conversing with ‘les beaux esprits’ at Paris: I am
very glad of it; it gives a degree of reputation, especially at Paris;
and their conversation is generally instructive, though sometimes
affected. It must be owned, that the polite conversation of the men and
women of fashion at Paris, though not always very deep, is much less
futile and frivolous than ours here. It turns at least upon some subject,
something of taste, some point of history, criticism, and even
philosophy; which, though probably not quite so solid as Mr. Locke’s, is,
however, better, and more becoming rational beings, than our frivolous
dissertations upon the weather, or upon whist. Monsieur du Clos observes,
and I think very justly, ‘qu’il y a a present en France une fermentation
universelle de la raison qui tend a se developper’. Whereas, I am sorry
to say, that here that fermentation seems to have been over some years
ago, the spirit evaporated, and only the dregs left. Moreover, ‘les beaux
esprits’ at Paris are commonly well-bred, which ours very frequently are
not; with the former your manners will be formed; with the latter, wit
must generally be compounded for at the expense of manners. Are you
acquainted with Marivaux, who has certainly studied, and is well
acquainted with the heart; but who refines so much upon its ‘plis et
replis’, and describes them so affectedly, that he often is
unintelligible to his readers, and sometimes so, I dare say, to himself?
Do you know ‘Crebillon le fils’? He is a fine painter and a pleasing
writer; his characters are admirable and his reflections just. Frequent
these people, and be glad, but not proud of frequenting them: never boast
of it, as a proof of your own merit, nor insult, in a manner, other
companies by telling them affectedly what you, Montesquieu and Fontenelle
were talking of the other day; as I have known many people do here, with
regard to Pope and Swift, who had never been twice in company with
either; nor carry into other companies the ‘ton’ of those meetings of
‘beaux esprits’. Talk literature, taste, philosophy, etc., with them, ‘a
la bonne heure’; but then, with the same ease, and more ‘enjouement’,
talk ‘pom-pons, moires’, etc., with Madame de Blot, if she requires it.
Almost every subject in the world has its proper time and place; in which
no one is above or below discussion. The point is, to talk well upon the
subject you talk upon; and the most trifling, frivolous subjects will
still give a man of parts an opportunity of showing them. ‘L’usage du
grand monde’ can alone teach that. That was the distinguishing
characteristic of Alcibiades, and a happy one it was, that he could
occasionally, and with so much ease, adopt the most different, and even
the most opposite habits and manners, that each seemed natural to him.
Prepare yourself for the great world, as the ‘athletae’ used to do for
their exercises: oil (if I may use that expression) your mind and your
manners, to give them the necessary suppleness and flexibility; strength
alone will not do, as young people are too apt to think.
How do your exercises go on? Can you manage a pretty vigorous ‘sauteur’
between the pillars? Are you got into stirrups yet? ‘Faites-vous assaut
aux armes? But, above all, what does Marcel say of you? Is he satisfied?
Pray be more particular in your accounts of yourself, for though I have
frequent accounts of you from others, I desire to have your own too.
Adieu. Yours, truly and friendly.